


Belonging

by TheRealDanniX



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Claudia Stilinski Feels, Full Shift Werewolves, Good Alpha Derek Hale, Good Peter Hale, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Werecreature Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX
Summary: “How am I going to tell my dad?” Stiles muttered. “He just got used to werewolves existing and now I’ve got to tell that not only have I joined the monthly moonlight madness, but Mom knew about werewolves too. She came from a pack. On top of that, I have to figure out how the hell to be a werefox, which is not something that I ever wanted to be. I was fine being human. I didn’t want the bite. I didn’t want this.” Stiles felt his eyes flash as he buried his head in his hands.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 18
Kudos: 874





	Belonging

**Author's Note:**

> Background: I sorta just cherry-picked canon. No, I’m not sorry. Season 3A happened, but nobody died cause I ain’t about that life. Boyd and Erica both rejoined Derek’s pack. Isaac bounced between Derek and Scott for a while but eventually settled on Derek. No nogitsune, but Kira and her parents did move to Beacon Hills. Chris and Allison moved away. Malia happened. Stiles dated her for a bit when she got out of Eichen. So it’s a bit awkward. Nobody likes Deaton, but he’s still sorta the Emissary for the Hale Pack. Jackson came back from London and joined the Hale pack. Got back with Lydia who joined after him. Scott’s a True Alpha like the show, but his pack is only him, Kira, and Liam. Derek kept his Alpha spark. Cora’s still alive and went back to the pack in South America. Stiles was in between the packs but leaning Derek’s way since the pool. Scott & Pack try to stay out of the supernatural trouble, while the Hale Pack is trying to get a little more proactive.
> 
> If you like what you read, drop a kudos and comment. I love hearing from Y'all!

Ever since Scott had joined the Creatures of the Night club, Stiles had been dragged from one supernatural disaster to the next with hardly a chance to rest in between even though after Junior year, Scott stopped showing up. He stopped answering his phone long before that. Today’s disaster was something plaguing the Preserve. Derek was propped on his bed glaring at Stiles as the younger man sorted through pages of research on what kind of creature was killing the trees in a certain area since Deaton had declared it was definitely supernatural. Suddenly, Derek let out a growl, shaking Stiles from his focus. “What is it, big guy? Timmy down a well?” Stiles snarked.

“Shut up Stiles,” Derek hissed. His eyes flashed red and Stiles was instantly reaching for his bat and the jar of mountain ash he kept on his desk. Derek slipped off the bed and crept downstairs, still growling quietly. Stiles didn’t hesitate to follow him. Derek glared at him, but Stiles just glared back.

“My house, my rules,” Stiles whispered harshly, hefting his bat. Derek flashed his eyes but kept moving towards the back door. When he opened it, Stiles was disappointed to see there was no one there. Derek relaxed a little, eyes finally fading back to green. He looked around the yard before turning back to Stiles with a shrug. “Seriously? I got my bat for this? I swear to God if I find out it was the neighbor’s cat again, I’m sending you back to obedience school.” Stiles let his bat drag as he stomped back to his room before Derek could snap or snarl at him. A few minutes later Derek rejoined him in his room, dropping a small box on his desk with a thud.

“Not a cat,” Derek growled. Stiles turned his attention to the box. It had a Celtic trinity knot carved on the top. It fit in Stiles’ palm and was made of some kind of white stone. Probably marble.

“What’s this?”

“It was by the tree line.” Derek sat back on the bed, eying the box suspiciously. 

“What’s in it?” Stiles raised an eyebrow as he picked up the box. He turned it over in his hands a few times before holding it to his ear and shaking it. It didn’t make a sound.

“Wouldn’t open,” Derek huffed. Stiles took that as a challenge, twisting the box this way and that, trying to pry it open. “It doesn’t have a smell.” Stiles looked up at that. 

“And that messes with your delicate werewolf sensibilities,” Stiles snorted. “Aha!” The lid opened and a puff of dust exploded in his face. Stiles started coughing instantly. He waved his free hand in front of his face. When the dust cleared, he peered into the box, but there was nothing inside it. “Why leave an empty box?” Stiles looked up at Derek who was watching him with red eyes. “What?”

“It wasn’t empty,” Derek growled. “That smell…” He cut himself off grimacing.

“Come on Sourwolf. Use your words. What’s it smell like?”

“When a pup is born, you can’t tell the difference between wolf and human. Mom had this powder that she would use to make the babies shift so that we would know. It was important so that the humans could get the right care.” His eyes faded back to green. 

“So someone was trying to make you shift?” Stiles shifted in his chair, feeling an uncomfortable tugging at the base of his spine. “Smelling from across the room isn’t gonna make you shift right? And you’d still be in control, wouldn’t you? Just wolfed out?” Stiles waited for the Alpha to nod before barreling on. “So what’s the point of making you shift?” The tugging had turned into a weird kind of pressure, but Stiles ignored it, shifting in his seat again.

Derek shrugged. Then he tensed. “It wasn’t left outside my house, Stiles.”

“But you said it was like a test. It doesn’t affect humans. So if they were targeting me, they are clearly misinformed.” Stiles could hear the strain in his voice that he hoped Derek would miss. He looked back at the box in his hands, trying to think clearly, but the pressure feeling had spread through his limbs. He blinked a few times and shook his head trying to clear it. It didn’t work. There was a buzzing pain building along with the pressure. Stiles tried to take a deep breath, but that seemed to make things worse as any air he took in was immediately forced out of him in a wheezing sound. He dropped the box, grimacing in pain as he chose to grip his stomach instead.

“Stiles?” Derek’s hand was on his shoulder, but Stiles shook it off. He jerked out of his chair as the pressure became unbearable. He heard a high pitched whining sound as he curled in on himself. Then the pain and pressure were gone. Stiles looked up at a confused looking Alpha. For a moment he thought that Derek had somehow gotten bigger, but he quickly realized that he had gotten smaller. There was another whine that definitely came from him. Stiles tried to look down at himself, but all he could see were two greyish-orange paws. He scrambled back twisting on four legs to get a better look at himself. He caught glimpses of greyish red fur and a frantically moving tail. The frantic movement seemed to jolt the Alpha into action. Derek knelt down and held his hand out, palm up. “Stiles, calm down.” Derek flashed his eyes, which had Stiles’ own eyes flashing in response. 

That did nothing to calm him down and led to another loud whine as Stiles pressed himself back against his desk away from Derek. “Breathe, Stiles,” Derek ordered, but he didn’t move any closer. “It’s okay.” Stiles bared his teeth at the Alpha. How was any of this okay? The growl that worked its way out startled him, but not enough to make him stop. Derek sighed but leaned back on his heels carefully watching the new shifter. Stiles stopped growling but maintained eye contact with the wolf. After their silent staring contest had gone on for a while, Derek sighed again. “It’s temporary, Stiles. The dust will wear off in an hour or two.” Stiles felt his tail flick in response. “Do you want me to call Scott?” Instantly Stiles was growling again, ears pressed flat against his head. Derek quickly held up his hands in a placating manner. “Understood.” Stiles relaxed some, still very confused, but glad that Derek hadn’t left him to deal with whatever was happening on his own. Stiles let himself inch closer to Derek, sniffing carefully. He could smell Derek’s concern, which had a bittersweet sort of scent, mixing into his normal scent of leather and pine and wolf. Stiles wasn’t sure how he knew what he was smelling, but he was confident he was right. As Stiles got closer, Derek held out his hand again. This time Stiles pressed his snout against the warm skin. Derek chuckled a bit as he shifted his hand, running it through Stiles’ fur. Stiles leaned into the touch letting Derek run his hands down his back. After a while, there was a rumbling sound coming from his chest that almost sounded like a purr. It startled Stiles so much that he jerked back. Derek just grinned at him. Stiles nipped at his fingers when the Alpha reached for him. “You were purring, Stiles,” Derek said, reaching out again. Stiles huffed, but let warm fingers dig into the fur behind his ears. Eventually, Derek lifted him onto the bed and settled with Stiles in his lap, scratching lazily behind his ears while reading one of the many books from Stiles’ stacks. An hour and a half after Stiles had shifted, he felt the same pressure as he had before minus the pain. He leaped from Derek’s lap as he shifted back into his human form. Well, mostly. He was grabbing for his pants when he realized he still had a tail. He quickly jerked his sweatpants on, as best he could around the tail before looking back at the amused Alpha.

“Shut up,” Stiles warned. Derek didn’t say anything, but he pointed to the top of his head. Stiles’ eyes got wide as he reached up to his own head to find two fluffy ears on his head. They laid flat against his head the instant he touched them but relaxed a moment later. “What the fuck?” 

Derek tilted his head. “Calm down.”

“This is not one of those situations where you can just say ‘calm down’, Derek. I was an animal for the last hour,” Stiles growled, his ear pressed flat against his skull. He felt sharp teeth dig into his lip and refused to think about why that was. He snatched up his shirt and pulled it over his head, ignoring how odd the fabric felt as it pulled on his ears.

“Looked like a fox of some kind,” Derek volunteered, still clearly amused. 

“But how the hell was I a fox?” Stiles snapped. “I have never been anything but human. I haven’t been bitten or scratched by an Alpha of any kind. I haven’t even been injured in the last month. I’m not a werefox. I’m not a were- anything.” His tail thrashed behind him in agitation. Derek looked at it pointedly.

“Are you done?” Derek asked. Stiles growled at him and felt his eyes flash. “Stiles, take a breath and try to let the shift fade. As long as you’re panicking, it’s going to be a lot harder to get your ears back to normal.” Derek reached up and flicked one of his ears, making Stiles jerk away. Stiles was not panicking. He was all too familiar with that feeling. This was not that. This was just your everyday freak out, which Stiles thought he was entitled to since he still had a tail and furry ears. “If you calm down, we can try and figure out what’s happening.” Stiles flashed his eyes again but ultimately tried to take the Alpha’s advice. He took a deep breath and focused on calming down. He recalled some of the conversations he’d had with the Beta’s about anchors and cast around for something he could use. He tried his dad, but it didn’t work. Eventually, he found himself focused on Derek. On his heartbeat. On his scent. He felt the shift fade.

“Oh thank God,” he muttered, running his hands over his rounded human ears. Derek settled back on the bed while Stiles dropped into his desk chair in relief. “I don’t know how you guys handle that on a daily basis. It feels so fucking weird.” Derek arched one of his eyebrows. “All right, geez. I still don’t know how I’m a werefox. Do you think that maybe whoever left the powder put something in it to turn me into a fox?” 

Derek shook his head. “It was just the powder.”

“And there’s no chance that powder can turn people into werecreatures?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head. “Then what the fuck happened?”

“Nothing happened Stiles,” Derek sighed, suddenly not looking at the other man.

“Clearly something happened because I know for sure that I was not a furry creature of the night this morning,” Stiles hissed. He felt his fangs drop again but took a steadying breath and forced the shift back. 

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Your scent hasn’t changed, Stiles. It didn’t change when you shifted. It hasn’t changed since I met you. Whatever happened, you haven’t been bitten. You haven’t been turned. It was already there,” Derek growled eyes flaring red. Stiles pressed back against the chair, baring his neck to the Alpha before he had the conscious thought to do so. Derek quickly reigned himself in. “Whatever happened may have been forced, but it didn’t change you.”

“So, what? I was born like this?” Stiles forced his eyes to flash. “I was born a werefox and it was just, what, dormant until some powder exploded in my face?”

Derek sighed, tension draining out of him until the alpha just looked defeated. “I don’t know, Stiles.”

“Then who does?” Stiles asked quietly.

“Peter might,” Derek admitted.

Stiles held back a groan. “Of course he would,” he muttered, grabbing for his phone where it was still in the pocket of his jeans from earlier. He pulled up the contact under Zombiewolf and hit call. It rang twice before being picked up.

“Hello Stiles, what do I owe this pleasure to?” Peter purred.

“What do you know about werefoxes?” Stiles asked, putting the call on speaker.

“What on earth would you need to know that for?” The older wolf sounded amused. 

Derek glared at the phone. “Peter,” he warned.

“Ah, calm down, dear Nephew. I don’t know much about werefoxes, so I’m not sure how much help I’ll be,” he sighed.

“Well, what do you know?” Stiles snapped.

“They’re all born. You can’t turn into a werefox from a bite. It’s a recessive trait passed down through old werewolf lines. In many cases, young werefoxes are thought to be human. They can’t shift until they’re eighteen. In fact, there are no signs they have a shift until after their eighteenth birthday. And unless I’m mistaken, all foxes have a full shift. The exact kind of fox they shift into is reflective of them, much like a fully shifted wolf. I’m afraid I don’t know much else. As far as I know, there are no werefoxes in the Hale family history. Though the Gajos family, one of Talia’s allies from Poland, tend to have a fox or two in every generation.”

“Gajos?” Stiles gulped. Derek looked over at him.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. They’re the main pack in Poland.”

“Can a fox come from a human?

“If they’re a human from a werewolf family, then yes, I suppose so. May I ask why you are so curious about werefoxes all of a sudden?”

“Do werefoxes need a pack?”

“That’s a no then,” Peter sighed. “And, I’m honestly not sure. As I said, the only werefoxes I know of come from old werewolf packs. Whether or not they need a pack, they are a part of one.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Stiles hung up the phone before Peter could say anything else and tried to keep himself from shaking. Derek was watching him warily. 

“Do you know the Gajos pack?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head. “No. Well, not really. I just, my mom’s last name before she married my dad was Gajos. She was originally from Poland. They met while she was in college at Berkeley. But I know my mom was human. I mean, I looked into it back when Scott got bit, trying to figure out if the bite could’ve saved her. Werewolves don’t get dementia.” Stiles shrugged. “But if she was born human in a wolf pack then the bite would have killed her anyway.” 

“Stiles,” Derek sighed, taking hold of the younger shifter’s wrist.

“How am I going to tell my dad?” Stiles muttered. “He just got used to werewolves existing and now I’ve got to tell that not only have I joined the monthly moonlight madness, but Mom knew about werewolves too. She came from a pack. On top of that, I have to figure out how the hell to be a werefox, which is not something that I ever wanted to be. I was fine being human. I didn’t want the bite. I didn’t want this.” Stiles felt his eyes flash as he buried his head in his hands.

“We’ll figure it out, Stiles. We’ve got a couple of weeks until the full moon. We can reach out to the Gajos pack and see if they can help you. For right now, let’s focus on this.” Derek tapped the box with his free hand. Stiles picked it up, letting the lid fall closed as he turned it over a few times, running his hands across the carving. “Someone had to have known. They targeted you for a reason.”

“I didn’t even know,” Stiles muttered. Derek quirked an eyebrow. “Stone doesn’t hold a good scent. Marble is porous, but there’s no way we’d be able to get any scent strong enough to track. Especially not with that powder all over the inside.” Stiles turned to his computer and pulled up google, searching for stores nearby. “It’s fairly new. Probably bought specifically for this. There are only two shops in town that sell marble boxes, but if they got it online or out of town, we’ve got nothing. I can check that out tomorrow. Did you smell anything when you found it?”

Derek shook his head. “The scents disappeared. That’s why I was out there in the first place. I couldn’t smell anything, but by the time I found it, most of the normal scents were back.”

“That means magic,” Stiles sighed. “Only a witch or a druid can hide all of the scents in an area. But it still doesn’t make sense. There’s no way anyone could’ve known for sure I’d be a werefox. And they used a powder that was practically harmless, if extremely concerning. I mean, the only reason you’d do that is to test somebody, right? But if they were testing me, they had to have known there was a chance I’d be a werefox. They’d have to have known about my mom.” Suddenly Stiles tensed his whole body. “Did you ever get Deaton to put up proximity wards?”

“On everyone's house except yours and Scott. Deaton wouldn’t ward your houses without Scott’s approval,” Derek said.

“So you wouldn’t know if another pack was in Beacon Hills unless they told you.” Stiles went for his closet, digging through the boxes there until he found what he was looking for. He pulled the leather-bound journal out carefully. The front cover was embossed with a strange-looking flower that resembled wolfsbane but was rounder and wider. Stiles had looked it up when he was younger. It was aconitum lycoctonum. Under the flower was the name _‘Gajos’_ in beautiful calligraphy. Stiles turned and held it out to the Alpha. Derek looked from the journal to Stiles, raising an eyebrow in question. “After my mom died, I tried to find her family, even though Dad said they were dead. They weren’t, obviously, but when I tried to contact them all I got back was this journal. It’s empty but that flower is foxbane. Every other time I tried to contact them, I came up empty. None of them even came to Mom’s funeral. What if they were waiting for me to be eighteen before testing me? Peter said they’ve had werefoxes before. They would know everything Peter told us.” Stiles fell quiet when someone knocked on the front door. He felt his eyes flare. Derek’s bled red in response. Someone knocking after sunset was always a bad sign.

“Stay behind me,” Derek ordered, leading the way down to the front door. Stiles felt himself grow tense when he took a deep breath and he couldn’t smell anything. Derek let out a low growl but opened the door anyway. Two women stood on the other side, both with the same whiskey-colored eyes that Stiles had. One of them had grey hair and a wrinkled smile on her face. The other was younger, with her blonde hair pulled back away from her face in a tight bun. Her pale skin was spattered with moles, just like Stiles. It took a second for Stiles to realize he couldn’t hear their heartbeats even though he could hear Derek’s. The younger of the two flashed golden eyes at them. Stiles felt his own eyes respond. 

“Mieczyslaw, who is your friend?” the older woman asked. At his given name, Stiles stepped back, signaling for Derek to take control.

“His name is Stiles,” Derek growled. “I am Alpha Derek Hale. He’s under my pack’s protection.”

The older woman eyed Derek. “I wasn’t aware there was still a Hale Pack. Forgive me, Alpha Hale. If I had known, we would have come to you before my grandson.” She tilted her head, baring her neck in submission. The werewolf beside her copied the motion reluctantly. “I’m Amelia Gajos, Emissary to the Gajos pack. This is my daughter Marianna. My other daughter Claudia lived in Beacon Hills with her family before her death. At her request, we kept our distance from Mieczyslaw. She informed us that he was not born a wolf, but our family is known for sometimes producing werefoxes, who do not present until after their eighteenth birthday.”

“And what are your intentions now that you know he is one?” Derek drew himself up, taking up more space than normal, trying to look as threatening as possible.

“We intend to invite him to our pack,” the younger woman, Marianna, snapped. She had a stronger accent than Amelia. Her mother laid a hand on her elbow.

“Forgive Marianna’s manners. She is still grieving her sister. It was very difficult when we heard of her passing. Made more so when we could not attend the funeral lest we break our promise.” She fixed her eyes on Stiles. Stiles found himself trying to hide behind Derek, who was letting it happen. “As I said, we were not aware there was still a pack in the area. Should Mieczyslaw desire, we can provide you with all the information we have on werefoxes to ease his transition. And I am sure that our Alpha would be interested in rekindling the alliance we had with the previous Hale Pack. Though, Mieczyslaw, our offer does stand, if you wish to join our pack, you are most welcome.”

“I already have a pack,” Stiles snarled before he could stop himself. Marianna bared her teeth at him, and he mirrored her, letting his fangs drop. Amelia tightened her grip on her daughter. She nodded to Stiles.

“Of course. Should you change your mind, you will always be welcome, Mieczyslaw.” Amelia spread her arms in a placating manner. She looked up at Derek. “We will send what we have once we have returned to our pack, Alpha Hale. I trust you will do what’s best for my grandson.” She tilted her head once more, submitting to Derek before she dragged her daughter away from the door. Stiles slammed the door shut, stepping around the immobile Alpha. Then Stiles let out a growl, which admittedly still felt weird, as he stormed into the kitchen. It took a moment for Derek to follow him and he found the fox pulling out pans and cutting boards. Stiles ignored him, focusing on his self-appointed task of fixing dinner instead of new senses or estranged family members or werecreature politics. He peeled some potatoes and chopped up some chicken before seasoning them and dropping them in a hot skillet. Derek watched for a while, taking a seat at the dining room table. 

“Mieczyslaw?” Derek said as Stiles started cutting up asparagus and carrots.

“Your pronunciation needs work,” Stiles mumbled, glancing back at the wolf. Derek raised an eyebrow. “It’s my given name and if you repeat it to anyone, I will shove wolfsbane down your throat and beat you with a bat wrapped in mistletoe.” Derek held up his hands in surrender when Stiles aimed his knife in Derek’s direction. “My mom named me after her dad. She was the only one who could pronounce it.” Derek nodded and silence returned while Stiles slid the vegetables into the simmering skillet. He monitored the food for a while, ignoring Derek and the fact he could hear the Alpha’s heartbeat now. It occurred to him that he hadn’t heard Amelia’s or Marianna’s heartbeat.

Eventually, Derek sighed. “You didn’t go with them,” he said.

Stiles snorted. “Of course not. I already have a pack, Sourwolf.” Stiles tensed. “I mean if you even want me as pack. Even if you don’t, I couldn’t just leave my Dad.”

“You want to join my pack?” Derek breathed. Stiles looked back at the Alpha.

“I mean, yeah. I was gonna ask after graduation, but I guess now works too.” Stiles rubbed his neck, refusing to look Derek in the eyes. “If you’ll let me.”

“Of course I will,” Derek smirked. “You’ve saved me and my betas more times than I can count. But you were always with Scott.”

“Scott hasn’t talked to me in months.”

“He claimed you as pack.” Derek’s smirk was gone.

“Yeah, well, he lied. What else is new?” Stiles rolled his eyes. He checked to make sure the chicken was cooked before turning the heat down. He divided out two portions, putting the rest in a Tupperware. He dropped one plate in front of Derek and started eating from the other. Stiles looked over when he noticed Derek wasn’t eating. “It’s not poisoned, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek snapped weakly. But he started eating slowly. 

“By the way, I think I know what’s happening in the preserve. Everything I read was pointing to Dryad. It looks like a dryad is sick, which is making all the trees and plants around them die. That’s why it was so localized. We just need to find the dryad’s tree and purify it, which we definitely need Lydia or Deaton for it, since I haven’t done any magic since my birthday and there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to do it.” Stiles kept talking between bites, explaining the lore of Dryads and what they’d need for the purification ritual. It made him feel more comfortable and by the time they were done eating and he’d finished the dishes, he had nearly forgotten his new status as a werefox. He probably would’ve if it wasn’t for the new noises and smells. Or the way the food tasted different. Not bad, just more detailed than normal. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, cutting off his ramble. “You should skip school tomorrow. Come by the house. The rest of the pack will be there. If you want, I can stay and tell your dad when he gets off.” The tips of the older man’s ears were a pinkish color and he couldn’t seem to meet Stiles’ eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, Sourwolf. I’ll tell him. It’ll probably be easier to convince him there’s no one to shoot if there’s no one else here.” Stiles loved his dad, but the last time they’d dropped something this big on him, the Sheriff shot Peter and almost shot Derek. And they were just telling him that werewolves existed. And now he had wolfsbane laced bullets. “I’ll come by tomorrow. If Peter starts bugging you, go ahead and tell him, but I want to tell everyone else myself.” Derek nodded and left out the back door, running into the Preserve and to the new Hale House, which was built farther into the woods than the old one. Derek had put up a memorial for his family in place of the old house. Stiles retrieved his laptop from his room and settled down at the table to wait for his dad to get off. He opened a new tab and started looking up what he could on werefoxes. Just after eleven, Stiles heard his dad’s cruiser coming down the street. It was strange to hear it that far out, but the worst part was how not weird it felt. He’d always thought the enhanced senses of werewolves would be overwhelming or distracting, but they weren’t. It was just there. It felt normal and that was really weird. He pulled out the Tupperware from earlier and shoved it in the microwave to heat it up. The Sheriff came in just as the food finished. 

Noah looked from the steaming food to his son. “Neat trick kid,” he relented. “Gonna tell me how you did that?”

Stiles shrugged. “I heard you coming.” 

“And you had time to heat up my dinner?” Noah pulled the plate from the microwave and settled across the table from his son. “What’s going on Stiles? The last time you looked like this you told me werewolves were real.”

“So it turns out Mom knew that. She was actually born in a pack in Poland and apparently, even though she was human, there was still the chance that I’d be a werewolf when I was born,” Stiles said quickly.

“But you weren’t.” Noah pointed his fork at Stiles.

“No, but her pack, the Gajos pack is known to have werefoxes in their family. And werefoxes don’t shift until they’re eighteen.” Stiles looked up at his dad, who lowered his fork.

“Stiles. Are you telling me that you’re a werefox?” Wide blue eyes were fixed on him as Stiles flashed his eyes. For a moment, Noah didn’t react. Then he sighed. “And how did you come by this discovery?”

“My grandmother and aunt left a box with some kind of weird-smelling powder outside and it sorta blew up in my face. According to Derek, wolves use the powder to test their newborns to see if they’re werewolves or not. It, uh, it makes weres shift.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I spent an hour and a half as a fox this afternoon.” 

“I thought werewolves didn’t actually turn into wolves.”

“Some can. It runs in families. Derek’s mom could. So could Laura. And all werefoxes. Also, my beta shift has a tail, which is all kinds of distressing.”

“A tail?” The Sheriff’s eyebrows were at his hairline. “Stiles, if this is some kind of joke, you’re gonna be grounded until you’re twenty-five.”

“I’m not joking.” Stiles looked down at his hands. “Just give me a minute and I’ll prove it.” Stiles pushed away from the table and disappeared into the downstairs bathroom. He focused on letting his shift out. Letting the fox take over. There was the same pressure feeling as the first time he shifted, starting at the base of his spine and radiating through his body. Instead of fighting it, he urged it on. It wasn’t painful like last time and a moment later, Stiles was back on four legs borrowing out of his clothes. He took a moment to jump onto the counter to look at himself in the mirror. He thought he looked small for a fox, but he really wasn’t sure. He had a small pinched looking face with big round ears. His fur was a blackish grey color with hints of red and white. He forced himself to turn from the mirror and jogged back to the kitchen where his dad was still eating. Thankfully, he’d had the forethought to leave the door open. Stiles jumped up onto the table and sat beside his computer. Noah looked at the fox in front of him with his mouth hanging open, fork halfway to it.

“Stiles?” Noah asked. Stiles dipped his head in a nod. “Jesus kid.” He put the fork down and got up, slowly approaching the fox. Stiles stayed perfectly still as the Sheriff approached, letting his dad examine him before he slowly reached out. Noah hesitated, but Stiles pressed his head against the callused hand. “You never make it easy, do you, Stiles?” Noah sighed as he scratched behind Stiles’ ear. Stiles made a chirping noise and ducked his head, slipping away from the gentle touch. “Change back. I guess we have some things to talk about.” Stiles nodded again, before jumping from the table and returning to the bathroom. This time he kicked the door closed before he tried to shift. It was harder than shifting into the fox form but he found that focusing on Derek helped him shift back. It still took a few minutes of intense focus and calming breaths to make the ears and tail fade. Stiles spent an hour trying to explain things to his dad, who was remarkably calm about having a werefox for a son. He even agreed to let Stiles skip school the next day to join Derek’s pack. So, the next morning, Stiles sent Derek a warning text at about nine before heading over to the new Hale House. Erica and Isaac were both sitting on the porch, clearly watching for him when he arrived. Erica had a wicked grin as he approached them.

“Heya Batman. What are you doing here?” She tilted her head a bit. “Derek wouldn’t tell us no matter how much we begged.”

“That’s because the Sourwolf knows how to keep a secret, Catwoman,” Stiles grinned back.

“He told Peter,” Isaac offered, pretending to be disinterested in the conversation.

“I told him he could.” Stiles shrugged.

“But not us?” Erica pouted. She folded her hands and leaned on Stiles’ shoulder, looking up at him.

“Maybe I wanted to tell you myself.” Stiles crossed his arms.

“You’re not talking.”

“Inside, Catwoman.” Stiles jerked his head to the door, which was promptly opened by Peter. 

“Hello Stiles,” Peter said, also grinning. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. “Our phone call makes so much sense now, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Creeperwolf,” Stiles said, but there was no heat behind it. There hadn’t been for a while. He and Peter actually got along well now that the older shifter wasn’t trying to kill people he cared about.

“As you wish, dear heart.” Peter mocked a bow at Stiles before letting the door slam shut as he disappeared into the house again. Stiles rolled his eyes and followed the older wolf inside. Derek and Boyd were both stoically seated in the living room with mirrored scowls. Erica draped herself across Boyd’s lap while Isaac plopped down in the seat beside him. Peter had vanished, but Stiles wasn’t too concerned about that, since the blue-eyed beta tended to come and go as he pleased.

“Lydia and Jackson are on their way,” Erica sighed. “She wanted to get coffee before whatever mess we have to deal with now.”

“And Malia was having trouble with the concept of staying awake even when she doesn’t have to go to school,” Isaac said. “I think Peter’s getting her.” Not a second later, Peter emerged from the stairwell, dragging a tired-looking Malia after him. He forced her into one of the open armchairs and propped himself against it.

“I thought I was bad in the mornings,” Stiles chuckled. Malia snarled at him, flashing her eyes. When Stiles’ eyes flashed in response, she stopped. In fact, no one in the room moved, except Peter who ambled over to the door at the sound of an approaching vehicle. Stiles stepped back, feeling all the eyes in the pack on him as he did. He rubbed his neck and looked at Derek. The Alpha shrugged, somehow clearly communicating how little he intended to help with the explanation. Stiles was both flattered and frustrated by that since it meant that Derek trusted him enough to actually let him tell the pack. Though he wouldn’t have minded some backup. He could hear Peter at the door, taunting Lydia and Jackson as he let them in. By the time the Banshee and former Kanima had entered the living, the other betas had managed to get over their shock.

“Do that again,” Erica ordered. Stiles let his eyes flash again. “They’re orange. What do orange eyes mean?”

“You were bitten?” Isaac asked. 

“Does this mean there’s another rouge alpha?” Jackson groaned. 

Peter rolled his eyes when Lydia and Jackson both glared at him. “I’m reformed,” he muttered.

“I wasn’t bitten,” Stiles said, cutting off Jackson’s response.

“But you are a werewolf?” Lydia demanded.

“Werefox.”

“How?” Isaac frowned.

“I was born one. Apparently, my mom came from a pack with werefoxes and passed it on to me.” Stiles shrugged. “Werefoxes don’t shift until after they’re eighteen.”

“What do you look like when you shift?” Erica asked, leaning towards him. Boyd held her in place, scowl having been replaced with a curious look. Stiles looked at Derek, who shrugged again.

“Er, well,” Stiles started, but Lydia cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“How did you figure this out?” she said.

“Isn't it obvious?” Peter sighed. “The Gajos pack knew about him and came to test him after his birthday last week. I suspect that if he wasn’t a werefox, they would have left without ever revealing themselves. Tell me, sweetheart, did they offer you a place in their pack?” Suddenly the air in the room was charged. Malia was the only one outright growling, but the rest of the pack was clearly on edge. Everyone except Derek and Peter.

“They did,” Stiles confirmed, “But I told them I already have a pack.” No one relaxed much at that.

“Scott isn’t exactly the best Alpha, Stiles,” Erica snorted, teeth just a little too sharp.

“I wasn’t talking about Scott.” Stiles rolled his eyes. Suddenly he was being tackled by Erica and Malia. He stumbled back in shock, before hugging them back. He didn’t realize he’d shifted until he felt a delicate hand touching his ears. He ducked out of the touch and away from all of them, covering his furry ears with his own hands. Lydia was grinning wickedly at him.

“Nice ears,” Boyd said from where he was still thankfully seated.

“You have a tail,” Malia said, reaching for it. Stiles danced out of her reach.

“You look so cute, Batman,” Erica said, smiling at him. Stiles backed away from his pack until he was behind the chair Derek was in. He didn’t realize he’d lost track of Isaac until the taller teen touched his ears. He yelped, startled and whatever control he’d managed to use to keep from fully shifting earlier was gone. It was faster than he’d shifted before, but that really didn’t matter as he bolted away from Isaac on all fours, choosing to hide under the couch, which he was glad to find he fit under.

“He turned into an actual fox,” Jackson muttered in disbelief.

Derek sighed and a moment later, the Alpha was crouched in front of the couch staring at him. “Come on Stiles.” He held out a hand, palm up, just like the day before. Stiles inched forward, pressing his snout into Derek’s hand. “Can I pick you up?” Stiles dropped his head into a nod. Careful hands curled around him and held him to the Alpha’s chest. Derek returned to his seat and let Stiles settle on his lap.

“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s one of the California Island foxes. They’re the only foxes I know with those colors and that size,” Peter mused. Stiles glared at him, flashing his eyes. Peter just chuckled. “I suppose we overwhelmed you, didn’t we, sweetheart?” Stiles bared his teeth at the older wolf. “I did some more reading after I talked to Derek last night if you’d like to hear it.” Peter had taken Malia’s seat, crossing his legs casually. Stiles didn’t have to look to know that Derek was glaring at his uncle. “Why don’t we all settle down and I’ll tell you what I found out, hm?” Peter looked pointedly at Erica, Malia, Isaac, and Lydia who were all staring at Stiles with faces that reminded him of people who would definitely pet another person’s dog without permission. He backed up on Derek’s lap, not sure he could calm down enough to shift back but not wanting to be assaulted by wandering hands. Derek flashed his eyes at the others who finally found seats, though their eyes were still fixed on Stiles.

“What did you find?” Derek asked.

“Well, for one thing, I was wrong. We have had a werefox or two in the Hale family, generations ago. Some wise soul decided to catalog the differences between werefoxes and werewolves and left a very detailed list that I will be happy to provide to Stiles, once he has opposable thumbs again.” Stiles growled at him. Peter smirked. “The biggest differences were all related to control. Werefoxes have more natural control over themselves when they shift, however, they have less control over the shift itself. As we saw, if they are startled or overwhelmed, they have a tendency to shift. Apart from that, they are much the same as a born werewolf. The testimony I read seemed to suggest that while they had none of them had enhanced senses or strength or healing that come from being a werecreature before their first shift, it didn’t feel unnatural as it would for a bitten werewolf. It seems that while certainly feeling odd, it also felt natural. As though they had been controlling their senses and strength all their life.”

“So Stiles is more like a born werewolf than a bitten one,” Lydia clarified. Peter nodded. “Is that why he can turn into an actual fox?”

“Oh, no. All werefoxes have a full shift. Why, I couldn’t say.” Peter shrugged. “Oh, and one more thing that born wolves and werefoxes share is the ability to recognize their mate. Though they are far less likely to understand that’s what is happening.” Peter was glaring at Derek. If he could have, Stiles would have frowned.

“Their mate?” Erica asked.

“Their potential mate. It’s not like soulmates or anything that cliché. Just the ability to recognize a good match on an instinctual level. On some level, all werewolves can, but the instinct is said to be quite muted for bitten wolves. Born wolves, and foxes, tend to be drawn to their potential mates,” Peter explained.

“Anything else?” Derek growled.

“No, dear Nephew. Though perhaps the Gajos pack will have some useful information.” Peter grinned. Stiles huffed a bit and Derek placed a calming hand behind his ears.

“Who is the Gajos pack?” Isaac asked, jealously eying Derek’s hold on Stiles.

“Old allies of the Hale pack from before the fire,” Derek mumbled.

“Stiles’ Mother was a Gajos before she married the Sheriff,” Lydia said because of course, she would know that. “Did she come from the same family?” Her green eyes met Stiles’. Stiles dipped his head in a nod.

“So Batman would have shifted on the full moon anyway, right?” Erica asked.

“Most likely,” Peter admitted. “Now, while this has been a very interesting session, I believe the whole pack is here to welcome a new packmate, not ogle them.”

Derek turned Stiles to face him. "Can you shift back?" Derek asked. Stiles nodded, jumping off his lap and ducking behind the chair where no one could see him. It took a minute, but Stiles managed to shift back. The tail and ears wouldn't go away though. He pulled his pants on and zipped up his hoodie before coming out from behind the chair. His tail twitched anxiously. Derek raised an eyebrow. 

Stiles shrugged. “It’s not as easy as it looks,” he muttered.

“I still think your ears are cute,” Erica volunteered. “Though your full shift is cuter, Batman.” She grinned.

“I will hurt you.” 

“You could try.” Erica leaned forward, but Boyd wrapped an arm around her waist holding her back. “Killjoy,” she huffed, though she was nuzzling his neck as she did.

“I think, all things considered, Stiles having this much control over his shift is impressive. Of course, I always thought he’d make a good werewolf.” Peter smiled. Derek glared at him.

“Come on,” Derek ordered, heading for the back door. The whole pack seemed to have been expecting this and was very quickly following their Alpha. Stiles tried to stay as close as he could to Jackson or Boyd since he knew they wouldn’t try and pet his ears. A few minutes into their walk though, Malia grabbed his wrist and tugged him to her. 

“Uh, hi Malia,” Stiles started.

“Shut up Stiles,” she replied.

“Right. Yup. Good.” Stiles let her steer him a little way from the main group, still heading the same direction. Suddenly, she stopped and slammed him against a tree. “Okay,” he grunted. She leaned in close nearly pressing her nose against his neck and took a deep breath.

“You don’t smell any different,” she said, pulling back. She looked confused.

“Uh, yeah. Derek said the same thing. We think it’s because I was born this way and I just didn’t know it.” Stiles could feel his tail curling around his leg and knew his ears were pressed back against his head. Her eyes flashed as she stepped back, letting him go.

“You’re the opposite of me,” she decided. 

“Uh, what?” Stiles frowned.

“You were stuck human. I was stuck shifted. We were both born weres.” She nodded like that made perfect sense and walked away. 

“Sure,” Stiles muttered. He followed after her, jogging a little to catch up to the rest of the pack. He made a point to stay close to Peter after that since most of the pack still avoided the older shifter. Hopefully, that would be enough to keep them from trying to pet his ears. Peter grinned over at him like he knew what Stiles was thinking. “Shut up Zombiewolf.”

“I said nothing,” Peter hummed. Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know, your ADHD is not going to do you any favors in learning to control your shift. Focus is key.”

“Please don’t give me pointers.”

“You may want to find an anchor for your focus. A physical talisman may even be helpful for you. Something to remind you of your anchor.”

“What are you doing, Peter?” Stiles sighed.

“Believe it or not, trying to help.” Peter turned to him with a small genuine smile rather than the mask the man so often wore. “I like you, Stiles. You are a very brave young man.” Then Peter turned away, mask back in place. “I could probably find the trinket Derek used after Page died. I told him it was a powerful talisman. It’s not, though I suspect it would work for you anyways.” Peter raised an eyebrow, grin positively wolfish. 

“Shut up, Creeperwolf,” Stiles groaned. He didn’t know how Peter knew that he’d been using Derek as an anchor, but he was not going to encourage the older man’s meddling. Derek glanced back at them with a frown.

“The longer you can’t control your shift, the harder it will be to conceal your emotions,” Peter pointed out. “After all, the ears are a dead give away.” Stiles glared at him. He knew that. He could feel his ears twitching and shifting on his head almost always aimed at a certain broody werewolf. The tail at least served some practical purpose, shifting to help him keep his balance when he inevitably tripped over things. They had walked almost a mile into the Preserve when Derek stopped in a clearing. The rest of the pack spaced themselves out in a circle around the edge of the clearing while Derek stood in the center. Derek looked back at Stiles and signaled for him to keep walking. Stiles stopped about a foot away from the Alpha. 

“Before the fire, whenever a new person joined the pack, my Alpha would bring us out to the Preserve. It was one of the only times we were all together as a pack,” Derek said. “It was the only time we were all together and shifted.” As he spoke, each member of the pack that could slipped into their beta shifts. “We welcome new packmates in the Preserve because we are connected to the land. We welcome them with all our members because we are connected to each other. We celebrate together. We fight together. We protect each other. We trust the pack to protect us.” Derek let his eyes bleed red. “Do you understand?” Stiles nodded. Derek’s fangs dropped and he stepped closer to Stiles. The werefox didn’t hesitate to bare his neck and submit. Derek leaned close and pressed his fangs into Stiles’ neck. Suddenly a warm feeling spread through his chest, tugging at him. He let out a gasp as the rest of the pack tilted their heads back and howled. He could feel the howls in his bones. It took a second for him to realize he could pick out the separate howls of each packmate. That he could feel the individual bonds between them and the emotions they had. His eyes flashed. Derek grinned at him as he stepped back, eyes still bright red. 

“Welcome to the pack, little fox,” Peter said from behind Derek. Stiles was too distracted by the new feeling of the bonds thrumming through him to snap at the wolf. He’d never felt so connected, so together, so not alone before. Erica tackled him from the side nearly knocking him to the ground as she hugged and scent marked him. She was quickly joined by Lydia, Isaac, and Malia. This time it wasn’t overwhelming. It just felt right. They spent some time in the woods together, playing an intense version of tag that resulted in Stiles laughing at the wolves from his perch in a tree. The only one who could even get close to where his perch was Derek, but even Derek couldn’t get as high. It turns out, foxes are very good at jumping, and Stiles’ smaller frame lent itself to thinner branches than the Alpha could use. Loath as he was to admit it, Peter had been right. Even though he’d never had the strength or speed of the wolves before it didn’t feel unnatural to be keeping pace. After lunch and after Stiles had managed to get his shift to fade completely, Stiles made Lydia get the things together to perform the cleansing ritual for the sick dryad while the rest of the pack lounged in the yard. The Banshee wasn’t happy about it, but she obediently gathered the herbs and followed the fox to the dying part of the forest while their Alpha trailed after them. They hadn’t been walking for long when they arrived at the grove of dying trees.

“How do we know which one is the dryad’s tree?” Derek asked. Stiles frowned as he moved from tree to tree.

“This isn’t right,” Stiles muttered ignoring his alpha.

“Dryad’s are mostly attached to older trees. The tree that belongs to them has a mark normally at the base of the trunk, near the roots,” Lydia explained. “None of these trees have a mark.”

“They’re also not as sick as they were,” Stiles said, crouching beside one of them. Derek frowned. “I was here with Deaton two days ago and it was a lot worse than it is now. A sick dryad would make the trees worse with time. Not better.”

“So, it’s not a dryad,” Lydia said. “It’s someone who wanted us to think it was a dryad to get a small group of us alone and unprepared.”

“Clever banshee,” someone mused from deeper in the grove. Derek growled and Stiles tensed, eyes flaring. Lydia stepped between them as a man emerged from the trees. He grinned at them with fanged teeth. Stiles couldn’t hear his heartbeat or smell him. A glance told him that neither could Derek. The man held up his hands in surrender, but none of them relaxed. “My mother would have us leave without our prize.” He fixed his eyes on Stiles. “I am not so easily swayed.” The wolf flashed red eyes. “Nor was my sister eager to let such a fierce spirit go. As for me, I would not allow a were from my family to stay outside of my pack. Forgive the deceit, but measures had to be taken if you would not come willingly.” Marianna stepped up from the shadows, flashing golden eyes. Before anyone could react, she threw a handful of powder at them. Stiles recognized the smell, though it was a bit different than it had been the day before.

“Lydia, run,” Derek ordered, shoving her back as his eyes flared red and stayed that way. Lydia didn’t hesitate before turning and bolting into the wood. The pressure from the day before started to build. The two wolves in front of them seemed to multiply and Amelia emerged from their numbers as both he and Derek bent in on themselves.

“This is not what I would have wanted,” Amelia said. She touched Stiles’ temple and the world faded to black.

When Stiles woke up, he was still a fox. He found himself in a pet carrier, which was all kinds of insulting. He could hear someone growling nearby and he tried to get a good view from the door. What he could see was a mostly empty hotel room and chained to one of the beds was a wolf. It was a huge black wolf that was pacing back and forth growling whenever it reached the edge of the chain. Stiles pressed himself closer to the bars of his crate and he saw the wolf’s eyes were glowing red. Stiles let out a whine and the wolf looked at him. It got as close as it’s chain would allow, lowering itself to look Stiles in the eye. _Derek_. Stiles bared his throat to his alpha and Derek’s eyes seemed to glow a little brighter. Stiles tilted his head, trying to listen for any of the other pack. Then he turned his attention to the door on the carrier. It was a basic lock that most animals wouldn’t be able to get open. But Stiles wasn’t just a fox. He was a human too. He carefully used his teeth to pull the spring-loaded lock back until the door shifted open. Then he released it and darted from the cage to where Derek was still pressed against the floor. He felt himself whine a little as he pressed his nose to the space behind Derek’s ears. Derek let him for a moment before shifting to get a better look at Stiles. Derek copied what Stiles had done, pressing his nose to the scruff of the fox’s neck. Once Derek was done making sure that Stiles was all right, Stiles got a good look at the chain on the wolf.

It was a strong chain, much like the ones Derek had used for the full moons before the betas had gotten control. It didn’t smell like wolfsbane or mistletoe. Stiles had seen Derek break a chain like this before, so he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t. Of course, even if they got the chain off, it wasn’t like either of them could open the door. Stiles left the chain alone, choosing to look around the hotel room. There wasn’t anything in the room that didn’t belong. No luggage or clothes or bags. Nothing that would suggest anyone other than Derek and Stiles had been in the room. The thing that worried him the most was when he caught sight of the clock. It was after seven. The last time the powder had worn off after an hour and a half. He wasn’t sure exactly when they’d been dosed, but it had been close to lunchtime. That wasn’t good. He wished he could ask questions, but there was nothing for it.

Stiles jumped onto the bed and examined where the chain was attached. It had been looped around a couple of times, but it was easier to get off than the bit around Derek’s neck. It took fifteen minutes using his teeth to pick at the chain, but it did eventually come loose. When it did, it made it easier to undo the knots of chain around the wolf. Derek just let him work, occasionally huffing when the chains pulled on his fur despite Stiles’ attempt to be careful. By eight, they were both free of the chains. Derek licked behind his ears in thanks, which should have felt weird but actually made Stiles preen a little. Derek huffed again, amused this time. Suddenly, Derek’s ears pressed back against his head and he was growling at the door. Stiles tilted his head, trying to hear whatever Derek could. People in the hallway were talking, but Stiles couldn’t make out what they were saying until they were right outside the door.

_“It doesn’t matter,”_ a woman said in Polish. It sounded like Marianna, but Stiles wasn’t sure. _“We have them both. We can bring them both back with us.”_ Her words were confident, but her tone was not.

_“We cannot take an Alpha captive. His pack needs him,”_ someone hissed back, still in Polish. That was definitely Amelia. _“I should not have gone along with this at all. We cannot steal from another pack. It would be one thing if Mieczyslaw was packless, but he is not. We cannot force him to join our pack. Nor can we keep him and his Alpha from their pack. If we do, we are no better than the hunters.”_ Stiles glanced over at Derek, who was still growling lowly. Stiles pressed against him, trying to convey that the woman opening the door wasn’t a threat. His Alpha looked down at him for a moment, but his growl didn’t waiver. The door opened and Stiles bolted forward, putting himself between Derek and Amelia. Derek’s growl got louder, but thankfully he didn’t attack. Stiles turned to his grandmother. “Hello, Mieczyslaw,” she said in English. She reached down and pet him behind the ears. Stiles let her, knowing it was the only way to communicate to Derek that she wasn’t a threat. Amelia looked over at the wolf as she straightened up. “Alpha Hale. Follow me, and I will take you back to your pack. My son was wrong, and I should not have let this happen.” She turned towards the door where Marianna was still standing.

_“I will keep Filip from following,”_ Marianna said. _“Perhaps Zofia can talk some sense into him. At the very least, keep him from trying again.”_

“Thank you, moja droga,” Amelia said. She turned to the fox and the wolf. “Come.” She signaled and led them out of the hotel. Derek was nearly stepping on Stiles as they followed her to a sedan. He had stopped growling but clearly didn’t trust Amelia. Stiles couldn’t blame him. If he hadn’t heard the Polish, he probably would have bolted the second the door opened. Amelia opened the door for them to climb into the back seat. “I’d suggest laying down. It will feel different traveling in your full shifts.” Derek snarled at her a bit when she closed the door, but Stiles took the advice to heart, laying down on the floor since Derek couldn’t actually fit in the floor. Stiles was honestly surprised he fit in the vehicle. Stiles yipped at Derek, trying to get the Alpha to relax. It was a few minutes down the road before Derek laid down on the seat, clearly having been struggling with the feeling of the car moving. Ten minutes later, Amelia was pulling up in front of the empty Stilinski house. “You should seek out your Emissary. He should be able to counter the shifting powder. Until then, I am afraid you are stuck as you are.” She got out of the car and opened the door for them to get out. “No matter what Filip says, we will not come after you again. He was wrong, and so was I for helping him.” They waited for Amelia to drive away before they were both running through the Preserve heading for the pack house. Derek was technically faster, but Stiles could get through places that he couldn’t, meaning that he was at the house before his Alpha. He sat on the porch and let out a howl. It was a higher pitch than the wolves, but it did the job. Peter opened the door just as Derek joined Stiles on the porch.

“Derek?” Peter said, eyes fixed on the wolf. Derek dipped his head. Stiles heard Peter’s heartbeat stumbled. “You look so much like her,” the older wolf muttered. Derek pressed his nose into Peter’s hand, which was easy since Derek came up past Peter’s hip. Peter looked down at Stiles. “Well, little fox, it seems that you two got out of trouble all on your own. Come inside while I call the rest of the pack.” Peter waved them into the house, following after them to close the door. Maybe they should invest in dog doors. It would make it easier to get in and out when they’re shifted. Peter kept walking into the house, but Stiles and Derek went for the living room. They’d been running pretty much full speed from Stiles’ house and that was exhausting, no matter who you are. Lydia was on the floor in the center of a mess of papers, focused on the computer in front of her. So focused was she, that she did not notice the large black wolf jumping past her to lay on the couch. She didn’t even notice Stiles until he was literally standing on her keyboard. She blinked, refocusing her eyes on the fox in front of her. 

“Stiles,” she said. “Thank God.” Before Stiles could react, she had pulled him close, hugging him to her chest. Stiles wriggled out of her grasp and snorted at her. “I would be insulted, but I know you’ve had a long day. Where’s Derek?” Stiles wandered over to the couch and jumped up beside his Alpha. Derek briefly looked up, but ultimately ignored them. Lydia’s eyes were wide. “That’s Derek?” Stiles dipped his head. “But he’s a wolf.”

“Of course he is,” Peter said, entering the room. He looked at where Stiles had curled up against Derek and smirked. Lydia glared at him. “Both his mother and Sister were capable of the full shift. It’s not really so surprising that he can do it too. Though it is impressive and the timing is rather odd.” Derek huffed, tucking his head into the couch, facing away from his uncle. Stiles pressed himself against Derek’s side, nearly purring with the pleasant warmth rolling off the wolf.

“Explain,” Lydia demanded.

“I suspect they used a spell of some sort to augment a powder we use to identify which pups are wolves when they’re born. Normally the effects only last for an hour or two, but obviously, they are still shifted. I called Deaton and recalled the pack. They should all be returning soon.”

“Why is Derek fully shifted?”

Peter sighed. “I honestly have no idea. Typically it requires years of practice to achieve a full shift and only born wolves of the Hale line can. I myself have never been able to. It could have happened for any number of reasons. The strength of the pack might have been enough to trigger it now. Or it could have been the combination of pack mates being threatened and the shifting powder. Or it could be something else entirely. The full shift is not something that we really understand.” Lydia was clearly not happy with that explanation, but let it go, returning her attention to the laptop in front of her. Stiles lifted his head and tilted it a little, hoping to convey a question.

“I’m looking into the Gajos Pack. This is what Danny managed to dig up after you two went missing earlier,” Lydia gestured to a pile of papers in the corner. Stiles let his head fall back to the couch. “Also, your phone has been going off. I didn’t check the messages, but your father called at least twice.” Stiles went rigid. The change was enough that Derek lifted his head to check on the fox. It was at that moment that Isaac burst through the door.

“We have a problem,” he declared, sounding out of breath. He hesitated at the sight of the wolf and fox on the couch but clearly decided that his problem was more important than his question. “I just talked to the Sheriff. He tried calling Stiles, but obviously, Stiles wasn’t answering so he called Derek, who also didn’t answer. Then he called me and I told him what happened so he had deputies go to all the hotels looking for a guy with a fox. But then Erica texted saying she saw Scott checking Stiles’ house with Kira and Liam and then Boyd saw them heading this way.”

“The problem, Isaac?” Peter prodded.

“Well, the Sheriff said that one of his deputies saw Scott talking to a guy outside the nice hotel. Not the one you had Jackson and Malia checking. The deputy thought it looked suspicious and checked with the front desk. They said that the guy Scott was talking to had checked in with two pets, but they only saw one of them and it was in a cat carrier.”

“You think Scott was working with the Gajos pack,” Lydia concluded. Isaac nodded. Then he fixed his eyes on the wolf. Derek looked up at him, making his eyes glow just a bit brighter. 

“Yeah, but if they’re back here, then why is Scott still heading this way?” Isaac asked. Derek let out a growl and got to his feet, dislodging Stiles. Stiles huffed and jumped down into Lydia’s lap. Peter looked at the wolf.

“I believe that Scott is trying to make a move against our newest pack member,” Peter said coldly. “Well, the rest of the pack should be on the way. Why don’t we all go wait for our guests?” 

Derek jumped down from the couch and went for the door. The rest of them followed Derek to the porch. It was a wide porch that had been designed to hold the entire pack and then some. It was one of two things that Peter had insisted on when Derek had the house built. That meant that as the pack returned, there was plenty of space behind their Alpha. Stiles had only seen the pack lined up on the porch once when a friendly coven of witches had come through, but it had been impressive. Derek sat in the center of the porch and Peter took his spot to Derek’s left, standing about a step behind the wolf. Lydia stood next to Peter and Isaac was on Derek’s other side, though there was plenty of space between the two. Stiles saw why when Erica and Boyd arrived and Boyd mirrored Peter’s position on Derek’s right. Erica fell in between Isaac and Boyd. All of them were at least one step behind the Alpha. Stiles wasn’t sure where to be until Derek turned around and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. Then he placed him on the ground beside the wolf, not behind like the others. Jackson was the last to arrive along with Malia. Lydia let Malia stand beside Peter and Jackson stood on the other side of Lydia. Stiles shifted his weight between his front paws. Deaton pulled up before Scott’s pack. He looked from Derek to Stiles to the way the rest of the pack was standing. Then he focused on Derek.

“I take it they forced you both into your full shifts,” Deaton mused. “Peter said it was augmented shifting powder. Is that correct?” Derek dipped his head. “Hmm. I should have what I need for an antidote at the clinic. Come see me when your territory dispute is done.” Deaton turned back to his car.

“You realize this is with Scott and not the Gajos pack,” Peter said. 

Deaton looked back and nodded. “I honestly expected this to happen sooner.”

“And you aren’t protecting your little protege?” Erica growled. 

“I’m bound to the Hale pack,” Deaton said calmly. “Apart from that, my goal is to keep the balance. I like Scott, but if he chooses to fight you, there is nothing I can do about it. My side was chosen decades ago when I agreed to be Talia’s emissary.” He slipped back into his car, seemingly unaffected.

“I will never be able to understand that man,” Peter mused. Most of the pack nodded. Stiles tried to roll his eyes but just ended up looking at the roof briefly. Derek huffed. Scott’s pack arrived a little while later, greeted by the whole pack in their beta shifts, except for Boyd, Lydia, Derek, and Stiles. The pack growled as one. Kira drew her katana and Scott stepped forward, eyes glowing red. Liam stood beside him, growling back at the bigger pack.

“What are you doing here, Scott?” Boyd demanded, speaking since Derek couldn’t. 

“Where’s Stiles?” Scott demanded. Stiles went to move forward but was stopped when Derek shifted one of his big paws into his path. Stiles looked up at the wolf, but he was focused on Scott.

“Stiles isn’t your pack, Scott,” Boyd said.

“Fuck that. Stiles has always been my pack,” Scott growled. The Hale pack’s growling got louder. “Where is he?” Derek rose to his full height, hackles raised as he snarled at Scott. The other Alpha finally fixed his eyes on the wolf, pupils getting a little wider before he shifted in anger. 

“You aren’t welcome here, Alpha McCall,” Peter said. “Leave before you do something that can’t be undone.” Peter’s voice was clear despite him speaking around his fangs. Scott stepped forward to attack and Derek leaped off the porch at him. It was a short fight since Scott had never bothered really learning how to fight and Derek had the strength of their pack behind him. Kira went to help Scott but was stopped quickly by Erica and Malia. Jackson and Isaac pinned Liam to the ground around the same time Derek had Scott pinned. Scott was bleeding from claw marks across his abdomen. They were deep enough that he’d be dead if he wasn’t a werewolf. As it was, it would take a while to heal. Derek growled and pressed his teeth against Scott’s exposed neck. Stiles shuddered as he felt something tug at him. It was the pack bonds, but it was similar. Like the opposite of it. Boyd and Peter grimaced.

“Take your pack and leave,” Boyd said. “This is Hale territory.”

“You’ve been allowed to stay because you did not choose to be a wolf, however attacking our pack cannot be overlooked. You are an enemy of the Hale Pack, and you have been marked as such. You have three months to be off Hale territory or we will have to take actions against you. In that time, you may not approach any member of the Hale Pack. If you do, they are within their rights to defend themselves however they see fit,” Peter explained. “Now go.” The wolves released Scott’s pack, backing up behind their Alpha. Derek growled at Scott again before turning his back on the other Alpha. Scott looked like he was getting up to leave, but he suddenly lunged towards Derek. Before Derek could react, Stiles was tackling his former friend back to the ground. He bit the werewolf’s wrist, tearing at the skin, and pressed his claws into Scott’s neck with a snarl. It wouldn’t have done much if Scott wasn’t already injured, but the threat was clear as the fox growled. 

“Leave!” Boyd growled, eyes flashing gold. Stiles backed up and let Scott stand, not turning his back until the other alpha had been dragged to Kira’s car by an injured Liam. When he did, Derek pressed licked behind Stiles’ ear again and pressed his nose there. Stiles understood and made himself purr a little. 

Peter knelt beside them, having let his shift fade. “Are you both all right?” Derek didn’t look at his uncle, choosing instead to nose down Stiles’ back. Stiles let him, understanding the Alpha needed to make sure that he was okay. He was even starting to understand why, which was a conversation they would have to have once Deaton got them shifted back. Peter’s eyes glinted at their behavior and Stiles would have rolled his eyes if this form was capable of that. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Come on, you two,” Lydia said, appearing beside Peter. “I’ll drive you to Deaton’s.” She herded them to her car after grabbing a set of clothes for each of them, putting Derek in the back and letting Stiles sit in the front seat. This time Derek was lying down before the car started moving. Stiles made a chittering noise that sounded like laughter earning a glare from the wolf. “Quit taunting him, Stiles.” Stiles stopped making the noise and looked up at Lydia, putting on his best puppy dog face. She glanced at him and rolled her eyes, but she reached a hand out to scratch behind his ears. “You are a menace,” she muttered. Stiles yipped in confirmation. “And even when you can’t talk you still don’t shut up.” The wolf in the back seat heaved a sigh of agreement. Stiles stuck his tongue out at Derek. Deaton was waiting for them when they arrived at the clinic. There was an awkward moment after he dusted them with the antidote during which both Stiles and Derek were scrambling for their pants since Lydia had refused to leave the room. Then she dragged them back to her car. Stiles was grateful that he’d shifted back fully this time instead of getting stuck in his beta shift since Derek forced him into the back seat of Lydia’s Prius. Halfway back to the pack house, Stiles had a thought.

“Did anyone tell Deaton that the Gajos pack was what caused the trees to get sick?” Stiles asked. Lydia glanced up in the rearview mirror to meet his eyes.

“No. We weren’t sure if it was true and we were admittedly more focused on finding you two,” Lydia said. Then she tossed him her phone. “You should call your dad to let him know you’re alright.” Stiles did as he was instructed, sitting through yet another lecture on being careful that ended with his dad sighing and saying _I’m just glad you’re alright_ that finished just as they got to the house. Most of the pack was still on the porch, lying, sitting, and leaning on any available flat surface. Isaac and Boyd were at least in chairs. Malia was just on the ground while Erica had claimed the picnic table, laying across it like a cat sunning itself. They perked up when Lydia pulled in. It was a bombardment of chatter that didn’t even stop when Jackson pulled in with several large pizzas. The pack ended up sprawled around the living room watching the most recent Star Wars movie. At some point, Stiles fell asleep, and when he woke up, the sun had set and most of the pack was gone. It was only Derek, Isaac, and Malia left in the room with him. Malia was asleep on Isaac’s shoulder. Stiles signaled Derek to follow him to the kitchen.

“So you know I’m not an idiot, right?” Stiles started. Derek raised an eyebrow but didn’t look insulted so Stiles pressed on. “I know what it means that I was beside you instead of back with the rest of the pack earlier.”

“I know,” Derek said.

“Then you also know that I’m not gonna just ignore it, right? Like that’s a big deal and everything. I can’t ignore it. Especially if you’re gonna keep doing stuff like that.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Derek leaned against the counter, looking vaguely amused.

“Then what do you want me to do? I know you know I’ve had a crush on you for years and you’ve ignored it for years. But now you’re marking me and putting me on the same level and that’s stuff you only do for your mate so I’m a little confused.” Stiles shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“I thought you were in Scott’s pack.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Stiles felt his shoulder slump.

Derek let out a quiet chuckle. “If Scott was your alpha and I acted on anything, I would have needed to go through him first. He would never have agreed to it, so I never tried.”

“But I’m not in Scott’s pack.” Stiles frowned.

“No, you’re not,” Derek agreed. “You’re in mine.” The way Derek said ‘mine’ sent a chill up Stiles’ spine. “I’m your Alpha, which means I don’t have to go through anyone else. Besides you.” Derek had moved until he was in Stiles’ space, nearly pressing the werefox against the wall. Stiles leaned his head back and Derek dipped his nose to the base of Stiles’ neck.

“I guess we’re not ignoring it,” Stiles managed, sounding ragged. Derek snorted lightly.

“Definitely not.” He ran his nose up Stiles’ jaw until he was looking in his eyes again. He moved slowly, giving Stiles plenty of time to move away. Stiles, impatient as ever, met him halfway, sealing their lips together. Derek let out a please growl and slid his arms around Stiles’ waist, tugging him closer. Stiles nipped at Derek’s lip and felt himself purring as they kissed again. 

When they broke apart again, Stiles gasped a little. “So your mine, huh Sourwolf?” he breathed. Derek didn’t reply, dropped to suck at his neck. “And I’m yours.”

Three years later a Sourwolf met a Little Fox at the end of an aisle. That night they met beneath the full moon. And the wolf and the fox belonged to each other.


End file.
